How To Win Friends
by restive nature
Summary: BtVSVarious xovers. Cordelia gives Buffy a present for her 17th birthday that keeps going and going, and then coming back for more. And bringing new friends with it. Most entries written for TtH's Ficforall pairings.
1. A Gift To Keep On Giving BtVS

Title: How To Win Friends

Chapter Title: A Gift To Keep On Giving

Author: Restive Nature

Rating: PG-13 (at most)

Pairing: None

Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

Timeline: BtVS Season Two Post Surprise/ Innocence

Series Summary: Cordy presents Buffy with a Seventeenth birthday gift that keeps going and going…

Chapter Summary: Buffy opens a birthday surprise.

A/N: The book discussed on this fiction is a real book. While the book and author are mentioned, none of the contents are included in this fiction.

A Gift To Keep On Giving

"So are you ready to dive into this pile?" Joyce asked of her daughter. Buffy's seventeenth birthday presents had been delivered by her best friend Willow Rosenberg the previous evening. Apparently, according to a stammering Willow, something had happened to break up the surprise party that the teens had planned for their friend. And Buffy had left without opening the gifts. Which was very odd, Joyce reflected.

"Ooh, presents!" Buffy chirped, though her voice sounded more tired and forced, than truly cheerful. Joyce knew that something had happened that had affected her daughter deeply. And just as she knew that, she knew better than to push.

It didn't take long to go through the pile. Joyce had already informed her daughter that her present this year would be a Mom sponsored shopping trip this weekend at the mall. And she'd noticed that Buffy was sporting a lovely new ring. That left presents from Willow, Xander, that librarian, Mr. Giles and two others.

There was a new sweater from Willow, which Buffy proclaimed would be great with a blue skirt she'd seen at her favored store at the mall. A necklace from Xander. Joyce sighed over that. Sometimes the boy tried too hard. Mr. Giles had seemed to stay true to form and had given Buffy a journal. Although from the look on Buffy's face, she could have sworn that it had been filled with mathematical equations all waiting to be solved… in French. The other presents were a surprise, until Buffy explained who the givers were. One Joyce knew and the other she knew of.

"That was very sweet of Willow's boyfriend to give you that CD," Joyce commented softly, looking at the eclectic artwork hand drawn on the cover. Whoever had done it was very spirited.

"Totally," Buffy agreed as she hefted the present she'd left for last. "I had no idea that the Dingoes ever taped their sets." She grunted softly as she tried to work her fingernail under the tape at the edge of the last present. "Ugh! Feels like a book."

"Oh I hope nobody got their wires crossed with Mr. Giles," Joyce teased.

"It's from Cordy Mom," Buffy retorted dryly. "I seriously doubt that Cordy and Giles were shopping buddies." Finally the tape gave and she was able to remove the paper covering. She stared at the book in consternation. "Huh? How To Win Friends And Influence People."

Joyce leaned over for a better look. "By Dale Carnegie?" she asked. She didn't wait for Buffy's confirming nod. "That's pretty good. I read it when I was in college."

"It's a text book?" Buffy gaped at her mother, groaning again. Joyce chuckled. Suddenly in her daughter's eyes, that journal must be looking pretty good.

"No," she smiled. "More like a self-help manual."

"Oh, influencing people?" Buffy looked the book over again. "You mean like hypnotizing them or something? 'Cause I could definitely go for that, you know. Make my teachers forget that I-!" She cut off suddenly and Joyce knew that she didn't really want to hear what Buffy had in mind. Yet at the same time, she couldn't resist asking, just to see her daughter squirm as she tried to come up with a believable, yet not too horrible answer.

"Forget that you what?"

"Forget my books!" Buffy exclaimed brightly. "You know, sometimes I'm in such a rush in the morning…"

Joyce chuckled. "The only thing you rush to do in the morning is your make-up sweetheart," she chastised gently. Buffy flashed an impish grin at her as she flipped open the front cover. She pulled the book up to her nose and Joyce assumed that Cordelia must have written some sort of inscription.

"Oh isn't that so typically Cordy," Buffy groaned as she set the book back down.

Joyce took the book and quickly read the inscription as well, deciding to laugh at it, rather than be affronted on her daughter's behalf. '_Dear Buffy,' _(it read) _Happy Birthday. I wanted to find you something useful that you wouldn't totally mangle with your challenged sense of fashion. From Cordelia Chase._

"Well," Buffy sighed as she took the book back and closed it. "It'll be useful if I ever have trouble falling asleep." She stood to move over to the book case and put the book away on the upper shelves.

"Oh it's not that bad," Joyce remarked. "As I recall, there was some useful advice in there. And at least she did get you something."

"Rather than promising me something with the hopes that I'd be so busy I'd forget about it and not mention it until a few days after the supposed event was going to take place at which time the prezzie giver is too busy to take the prezzie receiver shopping?" Buffy teased.

"I'm not going to forget and I will definitely remind you so you don't forget," Joyce smiled at the gentle teasing. "And right now I'm going to remind you to help me pick up all this wrapping paper."

"Yes Mom," Buffy sighed as she began picking up stray bits of ribbon.

And so the book stayed in the shelf, pretty much forgotten, until a few weeks later, when Buffy did indeed have trouble falling asleep. But when she went to find it… somehow, the book had disappeared.


	2. Chain Of Command BtVS Under Siege

Title: How To Win Friends

Chapter Title: Chain Of Command

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Under Siege 2: Dark Territory is owned by Warner Bros., Regency Enterprises and Seagal/ Nasso Productions. There is no profit made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13 at most for language

Genre: Crossover

Type: Humor

Pairing: Buffy Summers/ Casey Ryback (Under Siege)

Series Summary: Cordy presents Buffy with a Seventeenth birthday gift that keeps going and going…

Summary: Trying to track down Buffy is about as easy as understanding the military.

Spoilers/ Timeline: Season 2 Buffy, post movies for U.S. 2

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Various, ask before taking.

A/N: This was written in part for the TtH FfA, pairing Buffy Summers/ Casey Ryback.

A/N2: The book discussed in this fiction is a real book. While the book and author are mentioned, none of the contents are included in this fiction.

He had no idea how the book ended up in his restaurant. At first glance, Casey Ryback assumed that it had been left behind by one of the patrons. But when he'd read the inscription inside, he couldn't recall there having been any seventeen year old Californian girls in any of the parties that had dined in the establishment that night. Of course that didn't necessarily mean that the owner of the book had been there. Maybe the girl had loaned the book to a forgetful friend.

But since it was the only lead he had, Casey followed the proper course of action and began trying to track her down, rather than just tossing the book away.

A quick call to information gave him the only Summer's residence listed in the Sunnydale area. He calculated the time difference, knowing that it would be seven o'clock in the evening there. Definitely not too late in the evening to be calling. Leaving the book open so he could reference the name written there, Casey put the call through.

"Hello?" a woman answered, older than seventeen though, by the sound of it.

"Good evening," Casey replied softly and smoothly. "Is Miss Buffy Summers there?"

"Oh," the woman sounded slightly surprised, like she wasn't used to strangers calling for that person. "May I ask who is calling?"

"Ma'am," Casey replied politely and a little deferentially. "My name is Casey Ryback. I own a restaurant and at closing I found that a book had been left here, belonging I believe to a Buffy Summers."

"Is it Carnegie's How To Win Friends And Influence People?" the woman's tone was suddenly dry.

"It is ma'am," Casey felt his lips tug up in a tiny grin. Perhaps this had happened before.

The woman chuckled. "My daughter's been looking for it for a week now. I wonder how it ended up in your restaurant."

"Mm, stranger things have happened I believe," Casey offered non-committedly.

"Well, my daughter's not home presently," the woman said. Casey assumed she must be Joyce, since that was the name the telephone number was listed under.

"I'll tell you what," Casey offered. "I'm going to be coming that way the day after tomorrow, to visit my niece, Sarah at school. Perhaps I can bring the book with me and drop it off."

"Well that would be nice," Joyce accepted warmly. "If you're sure it would be no trouble."

"No trouble at all ma'am," Casey assured her.

"Oh, do you have our address?" Joyce asked. Casey looked to check.

"1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale?" he read off.

"Yes, that's it," Joyce sounded distracted. "Although…"

"It was written under Buffy's name," Casey hastened to assure her. It wouldn't do to have the poor woman think that he was some sort of stalker.

"That's strange," Joyce mused. "I don't recall Buffy putting her information in there." Casey didn't answer, since he had none.

"Well, I'll be there in two days," he said instead. "I'll see you then. Have a good evening ma'am."

"You too," Joyce replied automatically. "And thank you."

Casey hung up the phone, the moment pushed to the back of his mind as he contemplated the rest of the packing he had to do before his flight left for the West Coast.

Renting a car in LA had been no trouble. A road map in the glove compartment had given him directions to the little 'burg of Sunnydale, a few hours away. In all, Casey didn't expect any trouble with this self-appointed mini-mission. If only he knew how wrong he'd be.

Finding Revello Drive hadn't been difficult. What he'd forgotten about was that his flight had gotten into LA in the morning. By mid afternoon, Sunnydale was in the midst of daily life. Which meant that Mrs. Summers was probably at work. And judging by her daughter's age, the young woman would probably be in school.

So that left him with two options. He could leave the book on the porch or in the mail box and hope they found it. Or he could try and track Miss Buffy down. Frankly, the second choice appealed to him. His niece wasn't expecting him until the evening. And Casey didn't really relish the thought of his taking the time to drive out here just to have the book possibly being stolen on the cusp of being returned.

With that in mind, Casey pulled slowly away from the curb and drove slowly, hoping to find someone who could give him directions to the local high school. After a few streets, he found a willing enough man who gave him clear and concise directions. Unfortunately, he arrived a little too late.

Just as he'd signed himself in at the office, he heard the bell sound that dismissed the students for the day. Hurrying out into the hall, he approached the first group of students he saw.

"Excuse me," he spoke in a low tone, fairly devoid of inflection, knowing that it would immediately catch their attention. The group of girls, almost universally blonde, turned as one. Casey felt slightly uncomfortable as they eyed him head to toe, taking in his tailored suit and slicked back hair. "Do any of you know Buffy Summers?"

If there had been any admiration in their eyes, it was instantly deflected by the mention of that name. One girl, with thick honey blonde hair, compared to the platinum blonde and the dye-job blonde, gave a scornful snort and jerked her head towards a hallway. "Try the library with the rest of the wonder less freaks."

Casey attempted to thank them, but they were already stalking away, one of them muttering under her breath about wastes of all the good ones. Casey was amused. He walked in the direction that the girl had indicated and was gratified to find by the sign over the double doors that he was headed in the correct direction.

The room however was as silent as you'd expect a library to be. Casey cleared his throat when he heard some small noise coming from behind the desk. A gentleman's head, complete with glasses and slightly thinning hair popped up to look at him.

"Erm, yes? Can I help you?" the older gentleman asked in a rolling British accent.

"Yes," Casey replied with a small, genial smile playing at his lips. "I'm looking for Buffy Summers. I was told she might be here." The librarian looked if anything, even more suspicious. So Casey held up the book he intended to return. "I've come to return this." And finally the librarian's face cleared and lightened up. He straightened up.

"Mr. Ryback, I presume?" he questioned. At Casey's nod, he extended his own hand. "I'm Mr. Giles, the librarian here. Yes, Buffy told us yesterday that you'd probably be arriving today." He gestured around then. "But as you can see, the library is woefully empty."

"Oh," Casey didn't bother to follow Mr. Giles' look around, since he hadn't heard any other noises that would indicate another presence. "Do you know where I might find her? Perhaps she went home?"

"I do believe that she said she'd be studying with her friend Willow this afternoon."

"Willow-?" Casey asked.

"Willow?" Giles echoed, and then realized what Casey was asking. "Um, yes, Rosenberg. Willow Rosenberg. Lovely girl. Is quite a bit of help when she has the time." He seemed to become distracted again by something on the counter and quickly slid it off and bent to stuff it under the counter.

"Well thank you for your time then," Casey nodded. The librarian had removed his glasses and was furtively rubbing at them with a handkerchief. Casey left to a muttered good-bye. He moved back to the office, recalling having seen a public phone with telephone directory three. It would be useless to ask the secretary to give out personal information. But he was lucky and found that there was only one entry for Rosenberg.

But at the Rosenberg's, a nice looking redheaded woman informed him that Buffy and Willow had gone to study at their friend's place. The young man was Xander Harris by name. And then he'd been casually dismissed. Another check in a phone book produced four families by the name of Harris. And of course, it wasn't Edward or Jack or Rory that was Xander's father, but Tony. And when Casey finally arrived, it was only to be told that the kids had headed downtown to get some coffee. They might, he was told by a harried looking woman dressed in a rumpled nurse's scrubs, be at the Espresso Pump.

Having driven by it earlier, Casey was sure that he could find it again. Unfortunately, he still didn't know what these children looked like. Finding three teens in a coffee shop might be likened to a needle in a haystack situation. Luckily, he managed to find a teen that he was sure he had seen at the school earlier, this one sitting with some other males, a shock of purple hair atop his rather short body.

"The Bronze?" he asked again to clarify. The unexplainably stoic teen nodded.


	3. Ungrateful BtVS Step By Step

Title: How To Win Friends

Chapter Title: Ungrateful

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Step By Step belongs to CBS.

Rating: PG-13 (at most)

Genre: Crossover

Type: Humor

Pairing: Cordy/ Karen Foster (Step By Step)

Series Summary: Cordy presents Buffy with a Seventeenth birthday gift that keeps going and going…

Chapter Summary: Cordy finds a new friend to commiserate with.

Time line: BtVS Season Two, Post series Step By Step

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Various, ask before taking

A/N: This was written in part for the TtH FfA, pairing Cordy/ Karen Foster.

A/N2: The book discussed on this fiction is a real book. While the book and author are mentioned, none of the contents are included in this fiction.

**Ungrateful**

Cordy couldn't believe it. The last thing she'd expected to find when she'd walked into the only acceptable dress shop in Sunnydale, was the birthday present she'd given to her sort of friend, more like sworn enemy in a way, Buffy Summers. It was bad enough that Buffy had lost it before, only to have it found in Colorado of all places. But twice was really pushing it.

But there it was, sitting on top of a bag, resting on the sweet little divan that the matron of the shop kept for those shopaholics who needed to rest their feet and opine about those modeling clothes about them.

"Well this is just typical," Cordy muttered as she collapsed onto the divan, letting her numerous shopping bags settle on the floor of her feet. She reached for the book, but before she could touch it, a soft, but sharp voice interrupted.

"Excuse me, but what do you think you're doing?"

Cordy glanced up, a haughty expression already in place on her face. "Are those your bags?" she countered and the girl, about her age, with extremely long, dark hair and a slightly elfin face with nice even features and an obviously good moisturizing plan in place, crossed her arms over her chest and jerked her chin forward.

Cordy knew enough of reading people that the bags probably were, but this girl was used to being in control of things. But she didn't know that in this town, it was Queen C that ruled the roost.

"What does it matter to you?" the girl countered Cordy's counter question and instead of allowing it to throw her slightly, Cordy simply pointed at the book.

"While I'm sure those are your purchases, I can say with surety that that book most definitely does not belong to you."

"And how would you know that?" the girl sniffed imperiously. Cordy settled a smirk on her face as she visibly relaxed. She was in control here and the girl before her was starting to realize it.

"Because it just so happens that a few months ago," she explained happily in an icy voice, "that I gave my dear friend Buffy," _don't gag on that_ "that very book on the occasion of her birthday. That same book was stolen," _lost, but we won't mention that _"and recovered by a chef in Denver, Colorado," _see, and Xander said that she never paid attention to their discussions when they didn't pertain to her or fashion or gossip_, "who, along with returning the book, left behind a saucy thumb print stain on the front cover!" She finished triumphantly, gesturing to the cover of the book, where there was indeed a smudge across the front. The girls face went from incredulous, to relieved, to amused in just seconds.

"Well that's wonderful," she announced, seating herself on the other side of the bag and holding her hand out. "I'm Karen Foster."

"Cordelia Chase," Cordy returned, though she only shook Karen's hand extremely briefly. "Where did you find the book?"

"In my room," Karen grinned as she played with some imaginary lint on her skirt. "At first I thought it was my sister Dana's. That's exactly the sort of thing she would read. But it wasn't and I asked everyone. But it didn't belong to anyone in the family."

The brief moue of distaste she made as she said that word piqued Cordy's interest and she thawed briefly enough to inquire, "how many people are in your family?"

"A lot," the girl sighed in the manner of the long suffering. "My mother remarried a few years ago and those kids..." She shuddered delicately. "Well, my mother and my step-father decided that we just absolutely had to take a trip to Knott's Berry Farm this year, so here we are. Since we were in Cali, we stopped in to return the book. Although I have no idea how it got in my room."

"Oh, you poor thing," Cordy sympathized in a totally 'fake, but it sounded so real', manner. There were in fact a lot of things to sympathize about. Step family, not ever pleasant from all accounts that Cordy had heard, family vacations and well, Knott's Berry Farm, let's just not shall we?

"And of course, the shopping here?" Karen went on and Cordy found herself nodding along.

"You've found about the only decent dress shop in town," Cordy sighed, glancing around. "What I wouldn't give for a Neiman Marcus!"

"I hear you," Karen agreed. "Though," she broke off and seemed to muse on something for a moment. "Hang on," she announced and quickly stood. Cordy was wondering what on earth had set the girl off. Was she like, ADD or something? But then the girl was rooting through several racks until she had pulled out a few things and Cordy, never one to give up clothes browsing stood and made her way over, ready to offer the benefit of her wisdom.

As Cordy approached, Karen spun on her heel and thrust the clothes at Cordelia. "You have to try these on."

Cordy glanced down at the dress and two pant and shirt sets that the girl had chosen. They were nice and a good quality, judging by the tag price's proclamation. "I suppose," she murmured. It had been so long since she'd had someone to shop with. At least this girl didn't know the ins and outs of gossip that Cordy had to constantly guard against. In fact, a new shopping friend sounded exactly like what she needed. "Although I think I'll need a belt to go with."

"I know just the one," Karen pronounced, already holding it up and Cordy's bemused smile widened into a huge grin. The start of a beautiful friendship!

"And it's not like we're best friends," Cordy complained as Karen fluttered around her making a few adjustment to the lay of the clothes Cordy was currently modeling. Even she had to admit, Foster had quite the flair for dressing others. Cordy now had several weeks of excellent ideas that were sure to make a splash at Sunnydale High that would have the rest of the girls scrambling to emulate in her wake. "But you'd think that she would be grateful enough that she wouldn't keep losing something that I bought for her out of the goodness of my heart. And Xander, oh my God! Every time I mention it, it's all, _but Buffy has more important things to think about_ and _ it's not her fault that it just disappeared_."

"Sounds like he wants to be more than friends," Karen frowned, quite pleased to have someone new to talk to, to dress. After all, Dana and Al were just hopeless. And the boys...ew! Don't even get her started on them.

"Mmm," Cordy agreed quietly. "He thought he did, but Buffy would never go for it. She's more into the tall, dark and broody sort of salty goodness."

"Salty goodness?" Karen repeated, her ear perking up at the new catchy little phrase. She'd have to remember that one.

"Yep," Cordy nodded and then once Karen stopped fussing, started back to the changing room for the next piece de resistance! "Tall, older, sinfully handsome, goes by just the name Angel. But then again, likes books and dark alleys."

Karen giggled in response and waited for Cordy to return. They'd had so much fun in the last hour in, as Cordy had put it, the only acceptable shop in town. But then she caught sight of a familiar car pulling up to the curb outside the shop and her spirits fell just a little. Cordy returned just as her mother and step father entered the shop, obviously looking for her.

"But still," Cordy was about to go on, but Karen's mother calling for her attention forestalled her. She quieted and turned, a pleasant smile on her face.

"Sorry," Karen breathed out, "looks like it's time for me to go."

"Of course," Cordy sighed. Just typical that the parents would show up to put a damper on her fun. They were quiet until the older couple reached them, serious, disapproving looks on their faces.

"Karen Foster, I thought you were going to return that book to that girl," the woman scolded softly. Karen opened her mouth to respond, but Cordy quickly nudged her in the side with her elbow.

"That would have been a problem ma'am," Cordy interrupted in the politest, reserved for adults voice that she could muster. "Buffy isn't home right now. She and her mother are out of town. I told Karen that when we ran into each other." The women turned her full attention to Cordelia, her eyes questioning.

"Oh?" she asked, definitely suspicious. Cordy expedited that by holding out her hand.

"I'm Cordelia Chase," she introduced herself again. "I go to school with Buffy and I'm the one that gave her the book."

"Oh, goodness, all right," the woman smiled and shook Cordy's hand. "I'm Carol Lambert. This is my husband Frank. Well, thank you for helping my daughter."

"It was sooo not a problem," Cordy grinned. "She has excellent taste in clothes," she praised magnanimously and then swept her gaze over the woman. "I see it must run in the family," she flattered, though the outfit the woman put together was not one she would have chosen for herself. It still suited the older blond.

"Thank you," Mrs. Lambert preened, but her husband clearing her throat, brought her back to the situation at hand. "Well, we should probably get going then. Although..."

"Can I give the book to you to give back to Buffy?" Karen asked quickly, seeing the dilemma as well.

"Of course," Cordy pffed, waving her hand. "Just as long as you give me your number. I so want to hear your take on the new Ferragamo line coming out."

Karen's face brightened and her mother thoughtfully provided her with a pen from her purse. They all, but Cordelia, searched for some paper in their pockets to write upon, but came up empty.

"Just a sec," she murmured as she reached for the book that was still sitting atop, forgotten until now, on Karen's purchases. She brought the book back and flipped open the front cover.

Mrs. Lambert glanced up, a little alarmed looking. "Are you sure. Won't this Buffy girl mind?"

Cordy shook her head. "It's okay, as long as you don't mind her having your number. I'm sure she'll want to call and thank Karen for bringing it back. Especially since it's so far out of your way to Knott's Berry. Ooh, family vacation, sounds like fun!"

"Carol, just let Karen sign it so we can get going," Mr. Lambert finally spoke up, glancing out the window. "Otherwise the rest of the kids might decide to check up on us and then we'll never get out of here!"

"Oh, all right, if you're sure," Mrs. Lambert worried, but Karen was already signing her name and printing out her number, while her step-father reminded her to include the area code. She snapped the book shut when she was done and held it out to Cordy. Then with another grin and a quick whispered instruction as to how to wear the scarf she'd laid out for the outfit, the trio left the store, Karen's purchases well in hand. Cordy had the brief glimpse of a minivan crammed full with arguing teens and gave a self satisfied sniff.

She waved goodbye to Karen, tossed the book to the divan beside her bag and then turned away to test the girl's eye as she artfully arranged the scarf. She tilted her head, deciding in just seconds that scarves could possibly make a huge comeback come Monday morning.

Well, her father always told her if she complained about something, that the grass was always greener on the other side. And after seeing what Karen had to contend with, what with not only ungrateful friends _and_ family, who didn't appreciate her unique talents, well...

Cordy was definitely the greener side of these pastures, wasn't she?


	4. Around The Corner BtVS MASH

Title: How To Win Friends

Chapter Title: Around The Corner

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. The television show M*A*S*H, belongs to Hornberger (tv creator), Larry Gelbart (developer) and CBS.

Rating: PG-13 (at most)

Genre: Crossover

Type: General

Pairing: Joyce/ Hawkeye Pierce (M*A*S*H)

Series Summary: Cordy presents Buffy with a Seventeenth birthday gift that keeps going and going…

Chapter Summary: A useful new neighbor moves in.

Time line: BtVS Season Two Post series for M*A*S*H

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Various, ask before taking.

A/N: This fiction was written in part for the TtH FfA. The pairing was Joyce and Hawkeye, but it came off a little more as Buffy Hawkeye, at the end of it.

A/N2: The book discussed on this fiction is a real book. While the book and author are mentioned, none of the contents are included in this fiction.

**Around The Corner**

If ever there was a time that he regretted not marrying and having a family, Hawkeye decided, it was now.

He glanced around the living room of the tiny one bedroom house he had recently purchased. It wasn't exactly what he had wanted out of life, but there was no shame in the life he had lived. Regrets yes, but at seventy five (plus a few months) years, it was bound to happen.

As it was, he had had to pay a moving company and packers to box up the belongings that he couldn't bear to part with, as well as the more mundane items that were necessary to living life, such as his furniture. The Realtor that he had dealt with had already assured him that it was possible to have daily help in and had provided him with a list of numbers for local businesses. But then they had moved him in, assembled what furniture needed it and disappeared in their bright yellow truck. Off on their next trip.

"What I need are some nice neighbors, with strong backs," Hawkeye murmured to himself, bracing one hand on his own lower spine. Even just faced with the daunting prospect of unpacking the rest of the boxes the movers had left pushed into corners and against walls so that he wouldn't be hampered by them, was causing his lumbago to act up. With a sigh, Hawkeye Pierce, retired doctor and Army Captain shuffled over to the box closest to the inlaid book shelves of the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Amazed that the imbeciles that had been appointed the task of delivering his belongings had actually ordered the boxes where they would make the most sense, Hawkeye deftly, for his age, opened the folded flaps and begun to remove his fairly extensive collection of medical tombs, journals and murder mysteries.

It was when he was about a third of the way down the first box that he found it. He lifted the copy of Carnegie's How To Win Friends And Influence People from the box and stared a long moment at it. Hadn't he already placed that? And wasn't his copy sporting a brown cover and not a green one? Hawkeye glanced up at the top shelf, eye level, which wasn't quite as tall as he used to be, now that he was older and his bones were losing a little of their mass.

Yes, there as he had thought, was the slightly tattered copy that his mother, God rest her soul, had gifted him with when he had left for college. Hawkeye smiled at the memory. Hard to believe there was a time when he had been a shy young man. College had definitely changed that. He reached for the book, convinced that the perfume that she had worn all her adult life still clung to the leaves of the book. Holding that beloved copy in his hand, he lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply. The smile that touched his weathered face was wistful and sad.

"Well now," he finally murmured, turning his attention to the newer copy, "let's see where you came from." Settling his gifted copy back on the shelf, he turned slightly to open the cover of the new book. Squinting a little, he sighed before reaching to the breast pocket of his short sleeved shirt to retrieve the dreaded glasses. Shaking them open with one hand, he slid them onto his face and then looked again.

The front cover opened and the first page fluttered up. Hawkeye could see script there and read it quickly. '_Dear Buffy,' _(it read) _Happy Birthday. I wanted to find you something useful that you wouldn't totally mangle with your challenged sense of fashion. From Cordelia Chase._ Frowning, the older man looked to the left, flipping that page back down and saw more information written there.

_If found, please return to Buffy Summers_

_1630 Revello Drive_

_Sunnydale California_

Frowning slightly, Hawkeye adjusted his glasses and then glanced up, looking through the window with the vacant stare of one not seeing what was before of them as he thought a little. Revello? Wasn't that the street they had come down before turning onto Elmer, where Hawkeye's house was? He was almost certain it was. Gently shutting the book cover, he set it on the small end table closest to him. How that book got mixed in with his own, he had no clue. And as he reached for more of his own familiar books, he thought about this new little conundrum to pop up.

Well, he finally decided, after he was done with his current task, he could certainly take a walk and start to get to know his new neighborhood. After all, he had chosen California as opposed to Florida or Arizona to retire to because he liked to defy convention. No way was he going to be the crotchety old man that holed up in his house, only coming out to retrieve his mail, water the lawn and yell at the neighborhood children.

Revello wasn't all that far, he discovered. Half a block down to the corner from where his house was, and then turn to count the house number and it was about mid way down the street. Hefting the book that he was returning, Hawkeye continued on, noting that the sun was lowering rapidly in the sky. Hopefully someone would be home, he decided, as he had noted that the neighborhood was fairly quiet. He had seen some children here and there, and just like his fondest memories of childhood, the distant cries of mother's calling their children in for an evening meal.

Happily, when he made it to number 1630, he saw that there was a vehicle in the driveway, though these days, with large families, that single vehicle didn't mean much. But as he rounded the end of the vehicle where the walk way up to the front door was, he saw a woman, about middle age, swinging and humming, on a front porch swing. She held a basket of something in her lap that kept her hands busy, though she did pause to lean forward and take up a glass of something. She glanced up and smiled, offering him a wave as he neared.

"Hullo there," he called back, offering his own wave as he turned up the woman's walk. She paused for a moment and then set the basket beside herself, reaching for a towel that she wiped her hands on before standing to greet him.

"Good afternoon," she smiled, her voice low and melodic sounding to her ears.

"Hello," Hawkeye greeted once more as he ascended the steps. "I'm new to the neighborhood. Benjamin Pierce is my name."

"Oh goodness, how wonderful to meet you," the woman responded, taking his hand to shake. "I'm Joyce Summers. Welcome to the area. Have you been settled long yet?"

"Not at all," Hawkeye chuckled. "I was just doing some unpacking when I came across something very puzzling."

"Please, have a seat," Joyce offered, gesturing to the swing, as well as the wicker chairs that were spread around the porch. Feeling the need for stationary support, Hawkeye chose one of the wicker seats, resting the book in his lap. "Would you care for some lemonade?" she asked next, and Hawkeye saw that there was another glass, empty, resting next to the pitcher. "I was waiting for my daughter Buffy to get home from her after school activities."

"I'd love some, thank you," Hawkeye nodded, feeling pleased. One little mystery solved. "And that at least answers one of my questions."

"Oh?" Joyce glanced up from where she was pouring, looking intrigued. "And what question would that be?"

"If Buffy was your nickname," he cackled only slightly as he held the book up for her to behold. He held it out to her, in exchange for the lemonade. "I found that," he declared, pointing at the book she had opened and was staring at with furrowed brow, "when I was unpacking my books to put away."

"How strange," Joyce murmured, running her hand over it, much like Hawkeye had earlier. "I wonder..." she began but trailed off. She shut the cover gently and laid it across her lap before regarding the older man across from her. "It's the strangest thing," she began and Hawkeye set his glass on the table between them, anticipation of hearing a little story upon him. "As you can see from the inscription, Buffy's well, sort of friend gave her this for her last birthday. But not long after that, it just disappeared. Ended up in Denver of all places. Well, a very kind gentleman brought it back." She paused and flipped the book open, reading something. "Casey Ryback. Very polite. And then, not too long after, a young woman from Wisconsin brought it back when her family was on vacation here."

"Well, that book certainly gets around, hmm?" Hawkeye chuckled. "But I can't see how it would end up in my box of books when I had just moved in."

"Well perhaps it's where you moved from that might be the clue," Joyce chuckled, closing the cover once more and settling it beside her. She reached for her own lemonade and settled back in the porch swing.

"That would be Crab Apple Cove, Maine," Hawkeye nodded. "Lived there most of my life. Served a while in the Army and made it my mission in life to survive the war and get back home. I'd still be there," he sighed, "if there were any there left."

Joyce listened quietly and nodded in apparent sympathy as Hawkeye talked on about how all the children and young people seemed to yearn for the bright lights of the bigger cities and how eventually his beloved Crab Apple Cove became little more than a retirement community. And of course with little to no revenue present, people were packing up their businesses and moving on. The place was no more than a ghost town now.

"And so you decided to start over in Sunnydale," Joyce surmised when Hawkeye was silent for a few minutes. There was a question in her voice and Hawkeye nodded.

"I wasn't really looking forward to moving to Florida," he smiled widely. "I've no love for shuffle boarding and eating my dinner at four o'clock and driving at ten miles an hour to get anywhere," he spoke deprecatingly, enjoying how Joyce, a lovely young woman laughed richly at his descriptions.

"Well, I could only wish that Buffy would drive that slow," she commented at last. "As for the rest, I can't imagine I would enjoy that either." She paused to glance up over Hawkeye's shoulders and the older man turned in his seat to see three even younger people moving up the sidewalk at a fast clip, excited teen babble spilling from their lips. "And speaking of, that's my daughter with her school friends, coming now," Joyce smiled.

It wasn't Hawkeye's imagination that when the trio caught sight of him, they picked up their pace and the blond girl, as opposed to the redheaded girl, vaulted up the steps to greet her mother with a hug and then turn to the stranger there. Hawkeye pasted on his most charming smile and held out his arms, as if he expected a great big hug as well. The girl looked confused and he chuckled, even as Joyce smirked.

"Don't mind him, honey," Joyce instructed her daughter. "I've already noticed that he's quite the flirt."

"And never did I see three more charming young ladies to practice on," he quipped and then turned to the young man that was bringing up the rear. "Which I'm sure has occurred to your young man as well."

"You got that right," the boy quipped and then turned to look at the tray that was on the table. "Ah, no cookies?"

"Told you Xan," the girl, Buffy grinned. "Mom made them for the new neighbor. Which," she turned back to Hawkeye, "I'm guessing you would be."

"Buffy, this is Mr. Benjamin Pierce, our new neighbor," Joyce introduced. "This is my daughter Buffy, owner of that mysterious little book. And her friends, Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris."

"Pleased to meet you," Hawkeye grinned while the children took up lounging positions around the porch. All except Buffy. She glanced at the table as well, then to her mother.

"Can I get you guys a refill on the lemonade?" she asked. Joyce nodded and the girl bounded away into the house. The group stared after her and then Xander sighed loudly.

"I swear, I don't know where she gets her energy," he half complained. "School all day, party all night, training with Giles-!" he stopped abruptly as the girl, Willow smacked his leg lightly. He turned his attention to the adults. "Ah... learning... what's it called again Wills?" The redhead seemed unstartled that the boy had turned to her. She shrugged one shoulder.

"Hapkido," she said with an important nod. "It's a type of martial arts that originated in-!"

"Korea!" Hawkeye interrupted with a happy nod. "I was stationed there in the war. I actually got to see a little of it performed."

"Oh, how interesting," Joyce piped up.

"It's a good skill for a young woman to learn," Hawkeye nodded. The others agreed, though Xander and Willow looked relieved, where Joyce just looked slightly puzzled.

"I think they were just concentrating on working with a bo staff though," she explained. "I think Buffy gets extra points in gym for it."

Joyce's expression smoothed out almost immediately after Willow announced that and Hawkeye quickly filled in the awkward pause that followed with some of the antics they got up to in Korea. At least, the more child friendly versions, which produced some laughter from his audience. It didn't take too long before Buffy had returned, full lemonade pitcher with a plate of cookies balanced atop it, along with several plastic cups stacked together in the other hand.

"So what are we giggling over?" she asked as she settled the goodies on the table before serving up for everyone.

"Mr. Pierce was just telling us about how they cheated to win a boxing match," Willow giggled.

"Hey now," Hawkeye protested as he took one of the softer looking cookies from the plate Buffy held before him. "Thank you," he murmured, then used to the cookie to point at Willow. "No where in the rules of boxing did it say that you couldn't soak your gloves in ether to make your opponent pass out."

"Huh, there's an idea Buff," Xander grinned. Buffy served him last and Hawkeye could see why as the young man, still growing surely, scooped up an entire handful of the treats.

"Believe me," Buffy grinned. "If I was ever in a fight, I don't think I'd have time to break out a bottle of ether. If I even knew where to find any."

"Science lab at school," Willow volunteered and then looked around at the adults wide eyed. "Um, cause they have it for experiments. Or-or maybe the hospital."

"Probably," Joyce agreed mildly. She turned to her daughter as she took a seat beside her mother on the swing. "How come you didn't tell me that Mr. Giles was teaching you this martial art?" she wondered quietly and Buffy stilled and then shrugged one shoulder.

"Didn't know if I'd be any good at it," she defended herself. "Plus why tell you if I didn't like it and decided not to continue?"

"So did you like it?" Joyce pressed. "Willow said you can use it for extra credit in gym class."

Buffy nodded enthusiastically enough. "It was cool. Giles had to dress up in all this padding and I got to hit him! What's not to like?" Everyone laughed at that one.

"So Mr. Pierce," the redheaded girl, Willow, turned to the newcomer, "have you just moved in? I remember Mrs. Summers said something about the house around the corner selling."

"Just arrived today in fact," Hawkeye nodded. "I was unpacking and found Miss Buffy's book in my library. Since I already have a copy, I had a look. You youngin's wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" he asked teasingly and then laughed uproariously when all eyes swung Xander's way and the young man froze under their stares.

"Hey, I admit I like my pranks and jokey jokes," he defended himself, holding his hands up, "but it wasn't me!"

"It's a little like those book lovers clubs, isn't it?" Willow commented innocuously and attention turned her way, this time puzzled. She swallowed a drink of lemonade and then grinned. "You know, those ones where you read any book, whatever you want really and then leave it for someone to find and pass it on. Then when it gets found again, you can post about it on the message board."

"The message board?" Buffy asked, picking up the basket that Joyce had been preoccupied with when Hawkeye first appeared. Her hands had gotten busy shelling peas, as it turned out.

"On the Internet," Willow responded, sounding slightly defensive. "My mom saw it when she was working and made a study about it." She turned to Hawkeye and offered, a little deprecatingly, "my parents are psychiatrists. But my mom is always looking for new case studies."

"She made a study about reading books?" Joyce smiled indulgently as Willow shrugged one shoulder.

"It was more about the type of person that would pick up a book that was left in public," she explained. "There was an invitation in the book to participate remotely in the study. I think she got about three people before she moved on to something else."

"Probably too many variables in the project," Hawkeye nodded, thinking of the many psychiatrists that he had known professionally, a few personally.

"That's what Dad thought," Willow agreed. "I would have said, but well, I'm just a teenager," she sighed.

"And thus have your own books to read and science projects to help your bestest of best buds out on?" Xander added, wheedling. The girl laughed and nodded.

"I told you we'd set it up this weekend Xander," she promised. "The lab is being used this week. But getting permission shouldn't be a problem."

"If you haven't noticed already, Wills is the big brains of our group," Buffy grinned at Hawkeye. She then turned and showed the basket to her mother. "Is this enough?"

"Well, I was hoping to invite Mr. Pierce to dine with us," Joyce smiled warmly once more at their guest who started to protest, but then thought better of it. A home cooked meal beat one out of his freezer or a restaurant any day.

"That would be very lovely and kind of you," he accepted. "Thank you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Some company in the kitchen would be nice," Joyce nodded. "Because if I know Buffy, she probably still has some homework she needs to complete." She turned her gracious face on the youngsters. "Would it be all right for you two to stay to dinner as well?" Both of the invited teens were nodding. "All right, go call your parents."

The amazingly well behaved teens jumped to their feet and instead of just leaving their glasses, instead gathered up those as well as the extras they had, bags and the rest, so that Joyce's hand were empty as she led Hawkeye into her nicely decorated house. She directed the children in where to put things, giving Hawkeye time to look around, before leading him to the kitchen. Buffy joined them, putting the peas on the counter. Hawkeye, seeing his chance to help, since arthritis hadn't bogged him down as it had his parents, pulled the bowl closer.

"The rest of these?" he asked. He enjoyed fresh peas after many years of the Army's canned mush offerings, though it took some time before he could look them in the eye as it were.

"Please," Joyce nodded as she washed her hands at the sink before pulling things from the refrigerator. She asked after any food concerns, and Hawkeye told her that he could and would eat pretty much anything.

Talk continued in the other room, the dining room, the children's voices rising and falling as they shared secrets and whispers and help with one another's work. Neither Wilow nor Xander's parents seemed to have a problem with their children staying to dinner. And while they were occupied, Joyce told Hawkeye that her impression was that the Rosenberg's and Harris' were much less restrictive with their teens than might be good.

There was a small lull in their conversation as Joyce was concentrating on something on the stove, that Hawkeye's ears caught the whispered conversation in the other room.

"I like him," Willow was whispering. "He reminds me of my grandpa, on my mom's side."

"Me too," Buffy agreed. "Which is funny, 'cause Mom's Dad is all gruff and "hey you miscreants, get off my lawn!"

"Your grandpa actually says miscreants?" Xander asked with a chuckle.

"Well no," Buffy admitted. "But it's on our vocab list this week."

"Good job Buff," Willow complimented as Hawkeye had to put his hand over his mouth to hold his own chuckle in. "You used it exactly right."

"I kinda figured that," Buffy returned dryly. There was a silence for a few more minutes before Willow piped up again.

"I think Mr. Pierce might be lonely," she sighed.

"Lonely how Wills?" Xander wondered, sounding slightly distracted, which was obvious as he grunted and asked for help with a math problem. The whispered conversation continued between problem solving.

"Well, I don't think he moved with a family. That house was just one bedroom, right?" Buffy murmured her agreement, mentioning that her mother had looked at it before they settled on this house, because the Realtor had mentioned that the study on the main floor cold be used as a bedroom. "And he didn't call or go get a wife."

"Maybe he's a widow," Xander commented. "Er. Widower?" He seemed confused.

"Male, second one Xand," Buffy corrected. "But that would be totally rude to ask."

"It would," Willow concurred. "You know, if he just moved in today, he can't have gotten much unpacking done." There was more agreement and Hawkeye noted that Joyce had turned from the stove to begin slicing something at the island counter he was seated at. She was smiling as she worked quietly, and as she looked up and caught his glance, her eyes twinkling merrily, she was just as aware of the children's chatter.

"You wanna offer to help Wills?" Xander asked.

"Well, I just remember Buffy sayin' how unsettled she and her mom felt when they still had boxes everywhere," Willow defended and Joyce was nodding to that thought.

"I think it's a good idea," Buffy agreed suddenly. "It's a nice thing to do. We can offer. I mean, we didn't have plans tonight, aside from the usual, I mean. Did we?"

"Just homework and mocking of la television Espagnol," Xander added in a cheesy Spanish accent.

"So why don't we?" Willow perked up a little. "We can ask at dinner. I bet we could get loads done in a few hours."

"Sure," the other two agreed in tandem.

"You sure Xand," Willow pressed. "I know you're not big on the lifting of boxes and stuff."

"Nah, it's cool," Xander reassured her and unknowingly, Hawkeye. "I like Mr. Pierce. He's got funny stories. And if I'm right, I might be able to wheedle some new prank ideas out of him."

"I'll bet," Buffy murmured with a small laugh. That was about the end of that conversation and their attention turned back to their homework.

In the kitchen, Hawkeye turned to Joyce, his eyes just slightly misty. "Those are some real good kids in there."

"I've always thought so," Joyce agreed.

Dinner turned out as delicious as Hawkeye thought it would be. The offer to help him unpack was made and accepted with alacrity. The group was stuffed with all the offerings Joyce put on the table and clean up was done quickly, as the children helped load the dishwasher. Hawkeye was looking forward to the walk home to work off some of the calories that he had eaten. While always pretty much a beanpole, since he'd hit fifty and started slowing down a little, he'd managed to gain a slight paunch in the midsection.

Joyce promised that as soon as she finished a few other chores, she would be along to help. The rest of the group headed out, Hawkeye in the lead. Leading up to the front of the house, he noted that he should have turned his porch light on, but he hadn't thought he'd be gone until sundown or later. Opening the front door that he hadn't bothered to lock, he flipped the switch inside, but there was no response.

"Huh, must be burned out," Xander commented, peering up from under the naked bulb. "Do you have any spares? I could change that real quick like."

"Let me check," Hawkeye mused, trying to think, remember if he had thought ahead to purchase some extra. They did find some, in the top of a box in the kitchen and while Xander engaged in that self appointed task, Hawkeye was able to direct the girls in unpacking some more of the kitchen ware.

They were all laughing and joking around when Joyce showed up half an hour later, having moved on to the living room. It was an excellent evening and by the time Joyce decided that the children needed to get home because they had school the next day, Hawkeye was looking around in wonder, at how much more was accomplished than he thought would have been.

"Would you like us to come back Mr. Pierce?" Willow asked as they gathered at the front door. "We could this weekend, after Xander and I do that lab at school. It won't take too long."

"Well now," Hawkeye was nodding, "that would be very nice. I'll even provide the cookies and lemonade."

"And if you want," Xander threw in, "I can do the lawn for you. It'll need it again soon."

"If you want," Hawkeye nodded, realizing that he wouldn't have to look far for outside help as he had been thinking. "I would pay you for that, though. Young man like you, probably could use a little extra pocket change for wooing the young ladies, hmm?"

"It would be appreciated," Xander nodded. They all agreed upon a time and then the kids spilled out the front door as Joyce made her good byes.

"Thank you so much for loaning me the children," Hawkeye thanked her as enthusiastically as he could. "I think their youth rubbed off on me a little. I haven't felt so energized for years."

"But it takes it's toll," Joyce chuckled. "Just watching them wipes me out some days.

"Too true," Hawkeye agreed. "I'll sleep well tonight," he added, rubbing at his lower back again as he saw Joyce off. "Especially as someone was kind enough to make up the bed for me."

"I've always thought that it's the little things that keep us happy, making us better able to weather the big things," Joyce nodded. Hawkeye smiled at that very true witticism. They said their final good nights and Hawkeye waited until after the lot of them had ambled half way down the block before he shut the door completely and turned off the porch light that already attracted a good share of moths.

Unpacking the rest of his belongings went slowly after that, comparatively speaking. He truly intended to get as much done as possible. But age and memories had a way of interrupting. Not that Hawkeye minded too much. They'd unpacked the essentials and he dealt with his clothes and shoes and personals himself. And instead of memories overwhelming, with each thing he removed to dust and glance over before finding a place in his home, he would think how one or the others of that little group would enjoy hearing how he had come by it, or some related story.

Willow had quite an impressive, thirsty mind, Such as he had when he was young and to some degree, still did. Xander, now that young man was definitely a class clown. Hawkeye wondered if it got him into as much trouble as he imagined it might. Buffy and her mother were harder to peg into a hole, but Hawkeye didn't mind. They were both generous of nature, the younger having a good role model, it seemed in the elder. But Buffy was still young and learning about herself. But Hawkeye had no doubt she'd grow up into a fine young woman and were he almost sixty years younger...

He laughed aloud at that thought. He wasn't and there was no use in wishing. He'd settle instead, he decided, for friendship. It was truly, what he always hungered for.

Disappointingly though, it was something he didn't find when the official welcome wagon committee came in the guise of what seemed the local busybody. She brought a small offering of goods and products, mostly coupons from local businesses that Hawkeye had no interest in and would not use. He had produced tea, it was already too late in the afternoon for coffee, had been his excuse and they'd had a half hour of stilted conversation with him dancing around the subject of why he had moved to Sunnydale, his previous occupation and why he'd never married and produced a family.

Thankfully, though he didn't suffer from arthritis, his fingers still weren't strong enough to strangle the woman. He ushered her out of his house as quickly as he could and wished that Saturday would arrive sooner rather than later.

But at last it did. And Buffy and her mother showed up in work clothes at the acceptable hour of ten o'clock, ready to help out where they could. Hawkeye, enjoying some coffee cake he'd gotten from the super market, had offered to share and they'd had a small meal before diving into some cleaning and unpacking.

The sound of a lawnmower starting up, the noise extremely close, brought Hawkeye to the front living room window. He pulled back the sheer drapes to see Xander starting on his promised work. He smiled as he watched Willow standing on the walk shouting something that couldn't be heard over the motor. Then the redheaded girl shook her head in defeat and continued up to the house.

Hawkeye met her at the door, prepared to take her load for her, but she held it up with a grin.

"Cookies and casserole on me today," she chirped and when Hawkeye stepped back to grant her entry, the girl made a beeline to the kitchen with it, calling greetings to her friend and Joyce as she went. Hawkeye waved out to Xander as the boy turned to make another pass and received an enthusiastic wave back. Shutting the door, he wondered if he'd have what he needed for some lemonade or juice. The teen boy, if he remembered his own teen years correctly, would be ravenous before he was even half done.

"Where would you like this statue, Mr. Pierce?" Buffy asked as he moved back into the living room. She was hefting a little carving that had been a gift from an appreciative patient many years ago.

"You know," Hawkeye grunted, though the grin on his face belied his apparent grumpiness, "if you're going to be around this much, you should call me Hawkeye."

"Hawkeye?" the girl repeated and then nodded, a large smile gracing her face. "That's cool. Did'ja get that nickname in the Army?"

Hawkeye motioned for the girl to follow him, while he moved to the nook by the dining room where he had been placing those such items. While his hands rearranged and cleared he shook his head a little. "Actually, my father gave me that name from the book Last of the Mohican's. Have you read it?"

"Unh," Buffy frowned. "No." She shook her head then a little and brightened. "Saw the movie though. Daniel Day Lewis was kinda hot."

Hawkeye's full bodied laughter rang through the room. "The book is much better, trust me" he assured her when the laughter faded. "But then, I usually think that about all book to movie adaptations."

"Well, I know Willow would agree with you," Buffy chirped before she set the statuette down and then dashed off to retrieve more. Hawkeye continued on to the kitchen and chatted with Willow, who received the same invitation, especially as she had heard their conversation. She helped him make up a pitcher of fruit punch that he had in his freezer as he regaled her and Joyce with tales of the local gossipmonger that had stopped by.

Several hours and a meal later, they were all strewn about Hawkeye's living room. The unpacking was nearly complete and they were ceremoniously going through the very last box, aside from the ones that were to be relegated to storage in the study. As he had imagined, the group was receptive to the fertile store of tales that he had and Hawkeye knew he hadn't had such an enjoyable afternoon in decades. It was quite on par with the other night.

With a sigh, the last piece removed, he turned the box over to Joyce to be broken down and bundled up for the trash men to pick up come Tuesday morning. "Well," he announced, clapping his hands on his thighs before pushing himself up from his seat, "we never did discuss a price on the lawn mowing, did we Xander?"

The youth glanced up, a little startled. "No, ah, we didn't. I... what's the going rate even?" he asked of his friends quickly. Both girls shrugged. Joyce smirked.

"Well, I pay my lawn boy twenty dollars every two weeks for service," Joyce shared as she manipulated the cardboard. "But my lawn's about twice the size and a little more landscaping to be done with the trees and bushes." Both Hawkeye and Xander nodded.

"Ten?" the older man offered quietly and Xander grinned.

"And that's ten more than I make at home, so I say deal," he nodded once and happily, Hawkeye turned over the bill before returning his wallet to his other shirt pocket.

"Well, let's say we get these boxes moved," Buffy piped up, gesturing to the boxes still on the floor. "Then we can let Hawkeye enjoy his new box free, or well, at least not box cluttered home." The older man smiled at the girl's enthusiasm, not for performing manual labor, but her eagerness in using his nickname. He had wondered once or twice if Buffy might be a nickname for something else, perhaps Elizabeth which seemed to have fallen off the popularity charts for names. Whatever the case, Buffy suited this California sun kissed girl.

Xander, also on his feet, nodded and turned to one of the boxes filled with broken bits of things that Hawkeye was holding onto, mostly for sentimentality and no other reason. But as Xander hefted one of the boxes, several things happened at once. Hawkeye realized that the bottom corner was coming apart, probably from one too many uses, Xander didn't quite have the grip he thought he did and Buffy, noticing too apparently, had rushed to help. Just as Hawkeye was about to warn them of impending upending, Buffy let out a muffled yelp as her hand came into contact with the very corner broken open.

"Buffy!" they heard Joyce call from across the room, the cardboard in her hands dropping to the floor as the rest of the group rushed to assemble around her. Together, Buffy and Xander eased the box back to the floor and they could all see the blood rushing down the girls hand. "Oh dear!" Joyce groaned.

"Oh Buff," Xander babbled out quickly. "I'm so sorry. Thought I had it. But it was heavier-!"

"No prob Xander," Buffy hastily assured him before she began to inspect the cut. Hawkeye noticed that Willow had run off, in the direction of the kitchen. She returned swiftly with a clean towel, assuring Hawkeye that it was one she had brought. He was about to tell her that he had medical supplies in the kitchen as well as the bathroom, but Joyce was gasping and wincing as she held Buffy's hand aloft.

"Oh Buffy," she sighed. "That looks bad. I think it's going to need stitches."

The girl's reaction was swift and very familiar, especially to one of Hawkeye's line of work.

"Nuh uh," Buffy shook her head, cradling her hand as best as she was able as Joyce took the towel from Willow to begin applying pressure. "It's fine Mom. Barely a cut. You know me, I just... bleed easily. And fast. Very fastly with the bleeding. It's nothing."

"Now Buffy," Joyce began and Hawkeye had to repress the smile on his lips at the still familiar sound of a mother taking charge of her young and not at all about to back down.

"Here, here," he interrupted gently, using the children's own politeness against the elderly to squirm his way in. He lifted both Buffy and Joyce's arms. "You want to elevate it above your heart. Keep pressure on it for at least fifteen minutes and then we'll assess it."

"Oh yes, yes, that's right," Joyce agreed, sounding relieved that someone at least was backing her up. Hawkeye smiled kindly at her and then turned to Willow.

"Willow, honey, could you go into the kitchen and get the black bag in the lower cupboard next to the sink?" he asked and she was already dashing off. He turned back to the possible patient. "It has all my medical supplies," he informed them.

"Wow," Xander grinned, a little unsteadily. "So, didja get like first aid training when you were in the army?" he wondered, as Hawkeye deftly held the towel and watched Buffy's eyes. Her color was still good, though her eyes were a bit panicky. Shock could still creep up on her though, he knew.

"No," he answered absentmindedly of Xander. "I got my medical training at Androscoggin College and did my residency in Boston. I was an actual doctor in the Army, not field med personnel."

"Oh wow, so you're a real doctor," Xander chuckled.

"As opposed to a head shrink, huh?" he chuckled and then glanced at Willow. "No offense honey."

"Oh, none taken," she waved off the concern, though her eyes were still wide.

"But you're retired now, right?" Buffy wondered quietly. Hawkeye simply nodded, his eyes straying to the wall clock with the large numbers that he had purchased many years ago. "So you... you couldn't well..."

"Patch you up myself, hmm?" he asked cannily. And then threw her a winning grin. "If we were in Florida still, certainly. My medical license doesn't expire until the end of the year. Here though, it's a different matter."

"Drat!" she groaned. Hawkeye didn't bother hiding his chuckle.

"Don't like doctors?" he guessed.

"As a rule, meh," she replied. "I guess I like them just fine when they aren't in hospitals, trying to poke and prod around."

"Well, I won't be doing that," he assured her. "Although we should check and see what you cut yourself on. Are you up to date on your tetanus?"

It was Joyce that answered for her. "Two years ago was her last shot." Hawkeye nodded.

"That's fine then," he decided and then with another glance at the clock, eased her hand down. "Okay, let's take a peek. Just breath in through your nose and slowly out through your mouth." She began doing as he instructed and before he peeled the towel back, he retrieved his glasses from his pocket.

Placing them onto his face, he then proceeded to remove the bloodied towel and peer down at the wound, manipulating Buffy's hand and wrist to turn it as needed to view the wound. "Alright, I need to see how deep it went. Take a deep breath."

The girl did as instructed again and winced heavily when he pressed gentle fingers over the wound. "Good thing I just washed up, hmm?" There were a few chuckles. And then he was able to settle her hand down. "All right, from what I can tell the cut is going to need stitches, but just a few. You haven't seemed to have severed any arteries in there."

"There are arteries in your hand!" came Xander's surprised exclamation. Hawkeye didn't bother to respond because Willow was already quietly explaining that there were, though much smaller than one would associate with the word.

"So my advice is to go to the hospital and have them sew you up, or-!"

But his next suggestion was cut off by her instant whining protest. "Do I haveta! I heal fast. Stitches would just be annoying. Are they really necessary? I mean, come on."

"Buffy Anne!" Joyce's quiet, authoritative voice broke through the self-centered griping the girl was doing, the first sign of bad behavior that Hawk had seen in her. But one that was understandable, under difficult situations he was sure.

"Sorry Mom, Hawkeye," she apologized instantly and somewhat contritely. He waved it away.

"Or, as I was about to say, I can seal it up with some liquid adhesive I have," he offered, gesturing to his bag. "It's what the professionals are using now for the minor wounds."

"I think I have some of that at home," Joyce mused, but Hawkeye shook his head.

"That would be a skin sealant that you can buy over the counter," he explained. "This is actual suture replacement, very closely related, but for different uses. What you have is more for scrapes and slight cuts. But in a pinch, it would do. Especially if your patient hates hospitals as much as Buffy seems too." He gestured to her and Buffy, looking miserable and now a little shocky, nodded.

"Well..." Joyce hedged, her eyes darting between the two. "If it wouldn't put you in an awkward or difficult position Mr... sorry, I mean Dr. Pierce, then perhaps it would be for the best."

"All right, that's what we'll do, on certain conditions," Hawkeye announced. Buffy's eyes narrowed, but then brightened as he outlined said conditions. Such as Buffy promising to see a doctor, one licensed in the State of California, if she developed an infection or the adhesive came off too early. She agreed with all of the condition's with alacrity and only then, when he had her promise, did he move them to the kitchen counter to remedy the cut that his belonging's had caused.

It was perhaps five days after that, that Buffy had showed up at his house, by herself this time. Hawkeye had seen the girl walking with her friends on some evenings, and had talked with Joyce another afternoon, and on that day, had learned why Buffy so dreaded hospitals. As he had assumed, there had been trauma associated with the hospital or doctors, aside from illness or injury. The discovery of Buffy being in the room when her cousin had died had drastically colored the way the teen looked at the medical profession. But this was the first time it was just her. She was carrying something in her hands, as she waited on his porch.

Hawkeye shuffled to the door, having just woken some fifteen minutes earlier from an unintended nap in his easy chair. He pulled the door open to her perky little face. "Hello Buffy, come in, come in. What can I do for you today? Got another little cut for me to cuddle up to?"

The girl giggled. "No, thankfully. And the one I do have seems to be just fine," she announced, holding her hand up. "All healed. That liquid stuff came off this morning just after my shower."

"You didn't let it get too wet, did you?" Hawkeye asked, catching her hand to study it for himself. "Hmm, nope. You're right. Barely even a mark. You do heal fast young lady."

"Probably thanks to your quick work," she nodded. "And Wi-willow told me how much trouble you could get in. For not making me go to the ER," she added with a quiet frown. Hawkeye smirked slightly.

"Or making you sign a refusal of care form, or any of the myriad other things that frankly my dear, I'm too old and tired to care about," Hawkeye added, still smirking. "You'll find," he added as he gestured at her to come all the way in, "that I've always been a bit of a rebel. Rules are made to be broken and such."

"Well, Mom and I aren't going to rat you out," she grinned cheekily. It was then that she held up the book she was carrying. "You know, I don't know what Mom told you about this book of mine."

"Oh just a little," Hawkeye grunted as Buffy shut the door behind herself and he led the way into the living room. He reseated himself in his arm chair while Buffy seated herself on the sofa, holding the book on her lap. "Mostly that some prankster in your life keeps nabbing it. Sounds like a lark."

"I guess," Buffy grinned. "At least I get to meet really cool people, or they sounded cool enough," she grumbled suddenly. But then seemed to recall herself. "See, the first guy, Mr. Ryback, he put his name in here so that I would know who had it. And then this Karen Foster girl put her name in so I could send her a thank you. So I guess it's kind of, I don't know, tradition? Or whatever to put the names of people who find it, in the front. And I was wondering..."

"If I'd throw in my John Handcock?" Hawkeye chuckled. "Sure, why not." With a brilliant grin, Buffy jumped up from her seat and hurried to his side. She already had a pen and with another small laugh, Hawkeye took both instruments from her and quickly scribbled out his missive. He closed the book with a snap and handed it back to her. With the eagerness, curiosity and impatience of youth, Buffy took a peek at what he had deemed acceptable to write. And then with a sigh, happy, he hoped, read it out loud.

"_To my pseudo-granddaughter,_

_The prescription to life is simple. Find something that makes you happy and practice it often. It may not always be the same thing, but the happiness should be._

_With love and laughter,_

_Doctor Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce._

"Oh, that's great," she enthused and Hawkeye was moved to see a tear gather at the corner of her eye. "Pseudo granddaughter? Really?"

"Well, I figure that if I remind you of your grandpa," he teased, letting her know that he had overheard her and the other children that first night, "then why can't you remind me of the granddaughter I wished I'd had?"

"No reason that I can see," she finally decided. Hawkeye nodded as she returned to her seat.

"And did I ever tell you that the whole reason I looked in that book was because I already had a copy?"

"I didn't know that," Buffy smiled. Hawkeye nodded and then gestured to the book case.

"Yes, right up there," he explained. "My mother gave it to me before I went off to college. And what I wrote, was almost verbatim of what she wrote for me."

"Really? That's... cool," she finally decided in a genuine tone. "And my mom got this book too when she was in college. It's really neat to think that some things endure..." Hawkeye was sure that he wasn't mistaken at the sudden sadness in her eyes and wondered what among a number of things could have caused it. There was no question though that he didn't like it. So he forced himself to chuckle.

"And quite a lot of trouble it landed me in too," he grinned, thinking back to those long ago golden days of going away from his sleepy little town, to study, meet people, begin to really live. Something Buffy would probably be doing soon too. It wasn't so different, those days and these. And by the way she perked up, she wouldn't mind another sleepy little story from the still sleepy old man who needed a friend as much as she needed someone else to show her a little love that expected nothing in return.

It was the beginning of a very happy, if strange friendship.

**A/N3: Please note that in any state, that without licensing from the State Medical Board a doctor is not qualified to do _anything_! Basic first aid, such as you'd find in the home is about it. In this fiction, Hawkeye broke a ton of rules, but then, that's what he does. Plus, he's old, retired, what are they gonna do, take his license away? Somehow, I don't think Dr. Pierce would let that bother him too much at this point. Hope you liked!**


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